Bruised Little Rabbit Heart
by Berumotto
Summary: Amy's vigor is shrinking to zero after she got abused by a stranger. Only a certain bigheaded & nerdy genius of friend might be her last hope. Very angsty at the beginning...it possibly gets fluffier; I'm trying my best to stay IC; No smut; No spoiler!


There you go!

My first BBT fic (after I just received soooo much inspiration of **FatM **Song **"Rabbit heart"** - all lyrics belong to them, I own nothing!) ...or a pathetic try to write one. I've failed I guess. **sniff** x(

Anyway, of course it has to be my favorite „pairing"!

I'm so diggin' the Shamy! I'm literally squeeling for it! :) And I absolutely adore the character of AFF because I can relate to her SO much. (Fuu, all the haters out there!) Therfore it's a very emotionally Amy-centered fic, as you see. Concerning the content of this story I lately decided against adding some specific details, 'cause they'd be a huge spoiler for episode 5x10.

However, I hope you'll enjoy it at least a little! (You have been warned: IT WILL BE ANGSTY!)

Edit: Please, don't judge my knowledge of English language, this is my first fanfic written in a foreign language, so please be a little kind. And another appeal: If you want the story to continue and support it, you may be interested in reading it Beta? :) I'm very, very, very,very desperately searching for a Beta-mommy exploding from creativity! (preferably fluently speaking and flawlessly writing in English language!)

If you're interested, PM me! :D

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><p><em>Here I am,<em>

_A rabbit hearted girl,_

_Frozen in the headlights,_

_It seems I made the finale sacrifice.  
><em>

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><p>Even those icy and harsh gusts of wind, unremittingly blustering around her shaky ankles won't bother her anymore. As Amy Farrah Fowler stiffly tumbled her way through the incompliant midnight, she knew for sure that there was no chance for her to reach, sense or hold on tangency anymore. <em>Never ever.<em>

Although she needed, almost desperately _longed _for a specific warmth right now.

This coming from one specific pair of arms. De facto, a very specific Homo novus pair of arms.

Those hands awkwardly wrapped around her aching thorax, the most delicate fingers stroking her upper arm.

Slightly. Carefully. Most _gently_.

Somewhat distantly, but yet willing enough to confer backup on each of those emotionally distressed neurocytes of her body.

Again he should hold her like she'd be the most fragile vitreous porcelain.

One tarnished and rare fruit of the _Meissner _company.

Claiming her to be his precious artifact.

No physical contact. Not anymore. Nothing...

But _tonight_.

Absolutely alarming and atypical was the appearance of her, this usually energetic batch of neuroscience. Nearly stumbling over her own feets, mentally counting all the bones that might be broken, the female neurobiologist arrives at the apartment building 2311 N, Los Robles Avenue.

Still trying to lick away the small streams of blood, channeling their way down to her chin. The very obstrusive ferreous taste sent shivers down her spine.

Comfort. Amy needs this damn pain to stop.

Her soul longed for it desperately. This current psychical condition feared her, after all, she might _never_ be able to let someone touch her, if not within the next minutes.

She will loose all trusts in it, she will avoid it out of dread.

Torture. Amy was disgusted by caring those bruises.

Even though she was capable of semi-controlling the muscles to move the wrack of her body, she just couldn't prevent recalling everything that happened lately. Every detail already has beend burned into her intelligent brain.

**Just an hour ago.**

She went out, alone. Another heatedly dispute with her besties, Penny and Bernadette, about practical bridal traditions she suggested for them, brought her in this labile dilemma. Again.

Armed with a bottle of hooch she settled herself in the parking lot. Again.

But his time she refused to call her _kinda-sorta_ boyfriend to literally save her from this and take her away or console her. This time she aimed to be less selfish, to not become a burden again. Nothing has changed since highschool.

Drunken and still twigged with affliction she left the place, thinking about how to apologize. For what? What did she do wrong? How came she, a PhD in Neuroscience, didn't remember any hurtful mistake she has done? Why? Was she really that naive after all?

Even now she wasn't sure why the two beautiful girlfriends always rejected her, it was painful so-and-so. How could she discover, they never gave her the smallest hint.

Tired, angry, depressed and completely blue, Amy suddenly found herself on a silenced path captured between high looming oak trees. This surely wasn't where she wanted to go, neither it was the way to her apartment, nor to Penny or Bernadettes.

How the hell did she get here? Ah, who cares.

The blood was raging in her ears, her sight was already blurred.

It couldn't be worse.

Unfortunately: Yes, how it could!

Two steps further brought her in the arms of someone she most certainly didn't want to converse with. A kind of man nobodywants to meet in a foreign, eerie place like this.

A small chit chat without having a choice, she wasn't that drunk at all, but oh yes he was doubtlessly. The verbal things got violent eventually.

Amy defending herself, futile. Suddenly he grapped her by the hip, putting her hands out of the possible danger zone and sealing her protesting mouth with a thin fabric dipped in an exigious dosis of chloroform.

So she'd neither bite nor claw.

The man pushed her into the dark shadow of some lavendel bushes. Tight, hard, without expecting any repression anymore. Punching her in the stomach, face and pulling her shaking body towards him so that he could handle her more effectively...

She felt like a doll, beaten down by one aggressive child. No, this wasn't a child. It was a man who drunk up all his chastity with the last bottle of vodka.

**Back in time. **

Amy cryed silently as her vibrating fingers clinging to the banister (preventing her weaky body to collapse while walking up the stairs).

Unsuccessfully trying to swallow away the merciless ache. She felt worthless and filthy, nothing than grungy like a bummer, thoroughly full of germs.

However, she needed him to touch her just smoothly and only _his _sensibility to fix her splintered soul, there wasn't anyone else to whom she wanted to go now. Even if the assortment of friends would be manifold.

Finally attaining the last floor, she limply stepped to the left and gave her best to knock properly.

A familiar male voice replied: „Verification! Larcenous visitor on your prey or harmless, close acquaintance, who-you-might-be (Leonard, be aware that you're still on the list of suspects!), put your forefinger to the red spot on the right side of the door and push it slowly, enabling me to check up on your dactylogram."

Amy paused briefly with nearly no breath left, looking at the red button, shaking in front of her eye, he indicated to push. Still in fully disbelieve on what she just heard. Obviously Sheldon's still worried someone could break in the apartment and steal all his beloved comic books and all the nerdy artefacts.

„Hurry up, ill-bred stranger! Or I'll call Mulder and Scully."

A flimsy smile curled the corner of her mouth. She leaned forward, attempting to place her fingertip on the button correctly.

After a short while.

„Oh Amy, it's you!"

Noises of footsteps and immediately the door opened, exposing a bright smiling Dr. Sheldon Lee Cooper.

„Well, Amy. I have to admit that the pattern of your stratum papillare is quite a...- oh dear lord!"

All colors instantly disappeared from his face as he got completely aware of her appearance.

Looking at him, she opened her mouth to say a word of explanation, but abruptly lost all the remaining balance, without being capable of resistance.

Everything around her melted into a black, dizzy soup. Finally giving in to the swoon and the relentless force of gravity sending her body to the ground.

Sheldon reacted impulsively and wrapped his arms around her waist, impeding the percussion. Due to the fact that his bizeps and trizeps muscles were never rudimentary worked out, he was unwillingly smashed down to the ground, too.

Pure angst and nauseation were drawn over his facial features, while his arms were pretty much pinched under her muddy body.

No longer hestiating he lifted his head and stridently bawled towards the neigbour's door.

„**PENNY EMERGENCY! PENNY EMERGENCY! PENNY EMERGENCY!"**

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><p><em>I started rushing towards the starlight,<em>

_Raise it up,_

_I wish that I could just be brave._

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><p>So, what do you think? Should I continue? Please comment and rate! Highly appreciate it! :) And if you're interested in listening to the song I've mentioned (on which my creativity for this story is virtually based, here: .dewatch/6680765/Florence_The_Machine_Rabbit_Heart_Raise_it_Up)

Characters, basic elements belong to Chuck Lorre, Bill Prady and Lee Aronsohn - "The Big Bang Theory" (I own nothing)

Lyrics belong to "Florence and the machine" (Song: "Rabbit Hearts")

And all rights of the story (content) belong to me! (Please credit, if you're going to post it somewhere else! )


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